Page 10 of Working for the Enemy

My hand leaves the desk, my large fingers wrapping around the nape of her neck to tilt her head up. She lets out a soft, breathless gasp as I crowd her completely against the oak edge, my thigh stepping between hers.

"Kane," she whispers, her hands coming up to rest against my chest. She's trembling, but she isn't pushing me away. Her fingers grip the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer.

"You drive me insane, angel," I growl against her lips.

“I… I could say the s-same for you,” Marlowe stutters out. Her head tilts up even further, her eyes blinking slowly as she licks her lips. God-fucking-damn, my sweet, sassy angel looks so tempting, so innocent, so ready for someone to show her how much pleasure her body can handle.

My lips curl into a dangerous smirk as I rub my nose against hers and then get my first taste of her soft little mouth. She lets out a barely-audible whimper, pressing her lips fully into mine, giving me permission to continue. Marlowe’s grip tightens on my shirt and she leans closer, not fully aware that she’s rubbing her tits against my chest and rocking against my leg.

I hum in approval, seeking entrance. The moment she parts her sugary-sweet lips, a low groan tears from my throat. She tastes like maple syrup and fire, and I drink her in like a dying man in the desert. Every possessive instinct I have floods through me at once, and I grip her hip to pull her flush against my lower body, letting her feel exactly how much she affects me.

As I continue to explore her mouth-watering curves, my hand wanders up, up, up…

“Ah,” Marlowe squeaks, flinching away from me.

I immediately back away, not sure what just happened. If I pushed her too far, I’d never forgive myself. Scanning her body language, I notice her hand rubbing the same spot on her ribs as this morning.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, trying like hell to keep my voice even. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing. I, uh…” She drops her hand and looks away from me, but I’m letting her brush me off. Not about this.

I step closer, my hand hovering over the hem of her shirt. “Let me see, Marlowe,” I tell her firmly. I expect her to fight me on this like everything else, but she nods her head, letting me lift her shirt slightly.

“Jesus,” I curse, my fingertips tracing the bruise over her ribs. It’s fading into yellowish-green around the edges, but it’s clearly still painful. Judging from the healing process, I’d say her injury is about a week old. Possibly a day or two before Marlowe showed up in Forge Creek.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes as I pull her shirt back down. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” I murmur, opening my eyes and lifting my hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear. She nuzzles into the palm of my hand, that small act of submissiveness solidifying my job to protect her.

My thumb caresses her jaw, causing those green eyes to blink up at me. I lean down, brushing my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. She deepens it, her hands crawling up my chest and wrapping around my neck as she melts completely into my embrace. Marlowe kisses me with a desperate, shocking hunger, her tongue tangling with mine. I’m completely consumed by her taste and how much she needs this. Almost as much as I do.

My sexy goddess lifts her head and gasps for air while I lick a stripe up her neck and suck on her pulse point. I flex my tongue against her hot skin, feeling her rapid, erratic pulse. It drives me wild.

When I finally pull back, just an inch, our foreheads rest together. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes wide with total shock. She looks dazed, completely stunned by the sheer force of what just happened between us.

I clear my rough throat, my grip tightening on her hip. "You're staying with me. At my place. Tonight."

The demand seems to shock her back to reality. Marlowe blinks, her hands dropping from my neck to push weakly against my chest. "Whoa, hold on. A kiss doesn’t mean I’m moving in with you, boss man. I have boundaries."

I swallow hard, the muscle in my jaw twitching. It means exactly that, I think fiercely. That kiss changed everything. She’s mine to protect, whether she likes it or not.

"You don't have a place to stay," I point out bluntly, refusing to step back and give her space yet. "You have no money. Where are you going to go?"

She deflates, the fight draining from her shoulders as the harsh truth hits her. Her eyes drop to my chest. Sensing her retreat, I soften my tone, trying to make it sound reasonable. "Look at it as a perk of the job. Corporate housing. A benefit package."

Marlowe shakes her head slowly, lifting her chin with a stubborn remnant of pride. "No. I appreciate the... benefit package, Kane. But I'm not moving into my boss's house on day one. I'll find a motel. I’ll be back here at eight AM tomorrow morning, sharp."

Before I can argue, she ducks under my arm and dashes out of the office, her sneakers squeaking against the linoleum.

"Marlowe, wait!" I yell, spinning around and tearing after her.

I burst through the office door leading out to the contractor yard and nearly slam right into her back. Marlowe is frozen solid on the threshold, staring out into the gravel yard.

Every single protective instinct I possess detonates in my veins. In a fraction of a second, I step completely in front of her, shielding her smaller body with my own broad back. I scan the perimeter of the yard, my eyes sweeping over the heavy machinery, the chain-link fence, the tree line. My muscles are locked, ready to kill whatever just terrified her.

"What did you see?" I demand, my voice raw and lethal. "Marlowe, what is it?"

When she doesn't answer, I turn around to face her.